


Punch-Drunk Love

by outoftheashes



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abuse, Abuse of Authority, Alcohol, Alcoholic John Winchester, Bottom Dean Winchester, Child Abuse, Childhood Sexual Abuse, Claiming, Consensual Sam/Dean, Daddy Kink, Dean Winchester and Sam Winchester Use Their Words, Dean Winchester's First Time With a Man, Dean is 17, Drugged Sex, Drugs, Emotional Manipulation, First Time, Gun Kink, Incest, Jealous John Winchester, John Winchester Finds Out About Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, Knives, M/M, Multi, Mutual Pining, Mutual pining between sam and dean, Non-Consensual Somnophilia, Parent/Child Incest, Possessive John Winchester, Pre-Season/Series 01, Pre-Series Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, Protective Dean Winchester, Protective Sam Winchester, Sadistic Choice, Sam is 13, Sibling Incest, Size Difference, Somnophilia, Top John Winchester, Underage Drinking, possible very slight john/sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:00:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24951967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/outoftheashes/pseuds/outoftheashes
Summary: Dean's starting to give in to his attraction to Sam. Unfortunately, John is aware of the shift in Sam and Dean's dynamic, and his jealousy inspires him to make a move of his own.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/John Winchester, Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Comments: 7
Kudos: 83
Collections: Nonconathon 2020





	Punch-Drunk Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BlindSwandive](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlindSwandive/gifts).



> Written for nonconathon 2020. 
> 
> Thank you to a very special friend that helped me with this fic. You have to remain anonymous for now but you know who you are and what you've done.

Dean didn't want to be awake but of course he was anyway thanks to the sun that was penetrating through the shitty ass blinds. Not to mention Sammy had him in an octopus-like grip, legs and arms wrapped tightly around Dean like he might float away otherwise. And Sam was drooling on him. 

Dean ruffled Sam's floppy girl-hair. "You need a fuckin' haircut, kid," he joked because Sam was asleep and therefore a prime target for teasing.

Sam hummed in response and burrowed impossibly closer to Dean.

"Rise and shine." Dean gave in and gently tugged on Sam's hair - like he'd wanted to do from the get-go.

Sam let out a breathy moan and squeezed his eyes shut because he was really, really against consciousness. But he relented. Eventually. His lashes fluttered against Dean's skin before he looked at Dean with sleepy eyes. "Morning."

_So sweet and fuckable._

Wow. No. Dean couldn't think like that, not about his baby brother.

And yet...

It wasn't the first time those thoughts had crept in. Sammy was beautiful. In that soft, painful way Dean had rarely ever seen. Beautiful in a way he wanted, _needed_ , to protect.

_Fucking him would be the opposite of protecting him, genius._

Dean knew this. He did. Hence wanting to leave the damn bed and put some much-needed space between them.

"Morning, Sammy.”

"Mmmm." Sam stretched, his slim, lithe little body impossible to look away from. He trembled slightly as he moved, then dropped his cheek back on Dean's chest. "Did you sleep okay?"

"Uh." Dean bit his lip. He knew he should run from the closeness but it was so damn hard when it felt this sweet. He could almost pretend that it was normal and he wasn't a sick fuck. That this was a domestic thing and not... something else that his brain kept skittering away from. "Yeah, yeah I slept fine. You?"

Sam nodded, still gazing up at his brother like he was bigger than life. "I always sleep well when I’m with you.” He yawned and stretched again, his hand sliding dangerously low on Dean's body.

It felt too good, having Sam look at him like he was everything. Like Sam trusted him.

Something Dean didn't deserve.

"Oh," Dean said, his voice cracking in that embarrassing teenage boy kind of way. "Sammy, what are you doing?"

"Cuddling," Sam replied then burst into giggles. "Your voice cracked."

"It's called puberty, bitch," Dean said with a pout, thankful for the distraction from... whatever the fuck was up with his brain right now. "Maybe you've heard of it?"

"Yeah, Dean, I'm going through it, too," Sam said, laughing again. "Silly."

"Not really," Dean huffed because no, he couldn't think of his baby brother like that, absolutely not. "You're still shrimp-sized."

"I'm thirteen! I'm almost in highschool!" Sam smacked Dean's chest, his pink little mouth parted in outrage.

That mouth was going to kill him.

"I wasn't talking about your age, Sammy," Dean said, his voice cracking again. Ugh, fuck puberty. Fuck it so much. "'M talking about how tiny you are.”

"I train with you all the time. I'm not that small,” Sam argued. He sat up then, crossing his arms with an annoyed look. “And I'm getting pretty tall too!"

"So cute when you're mad," Dean said before he could think better of it. He poked Sam with his foot, finally able to breathe now that Sam wasn't on him.

"I'm _not_ cute. I can fight just as good as _you_ can!"

"Aw, Sammy, I didn't mean it like that," Dean said, sitting up. He hesitated before placing a hand on Sam's leg. "By cute I mean attractive, okay? And you're a good fighter, don't believe I said you weren't. I just... I just think you're small compared to me, okay? When we hug and stuff, don't I feel a lot bigger than you? That's what I'm talking about."

Sam looked up at Dean from under his lashes. "You think I'm attractive?"

"Um," Dean said, squirming uncomfortably on the bed. His dick was just a little too interested in the look Sam was giving him and he had to remind himself just how young and soft Sam was because _no_ this wasn't right. _Brother._ Little brother. "I mean... I have eyes, so yeah, you're attractive. Anyone with a brain would think so."

“Am I pretty, Dean?”

Dean rubbed at the back of his neck. "We should get out of bed," he said, trying to change the subject. "You wanna shower first?"

"No," Sam said petulantly and put his small hand on Dean's chest, pushing him back down. "Answer the question, Dean. Do you think I'm pretty?"

Dean could fight this. He could roll out of bed and run away - but he found himself gazing up at Sam, wide-eyed and vulnerable. "Sammy," he whispered. "Let it go."

Sam ignored him and straddled Dean’s waist. His boxers rode up his slender thighs and there it was, the head of his pink little cock poking out. "Tell me," Sam said, his hands braced on Dean's chest.

"Sam," Dean groaned softly, grabbing his thighs. "You're pretty. But that doesn't mean anything. You gotta let me up."

"I think you're pretty, too.”

"Sammy." Dean's heart ached at Sam's sad little face. He reached up and touched his cheek.

"It... It means something to me." Sam sounded terrified. As if by admitting this he was damning himself.

Dean swallowed thickly and stroked Sam's cheek and neck in earnest. "What do you mean?"

Sam leaned into the touches like he was starving for them. "I... Want to be with you like how you are with those girls you kiss."

"Sam.” They were in dangerous territory, so dangerous that he wasn't sure they could make their way back. "You just... You just need to find someone your age, right? That's all. You don't want this, you can't."

Despite his words, his fingers slid along Sam's jaw, closer to his soft-looking mouth.

"I want _you_ , Dean,” Sam breathed, turning his face to try and catch Dean's fingers with his lips. "I trust _you,_ Dean."

Dean let out a soft, almost pained noise. He didn't pull away, though. Instead, his mouth parted in want. "You're too little, sweetheart."

"You won't break me," Sam said and sucked on Dean's thumb, letting out a soft little whine.

"Fuck," Dean hissed, fucking in and out of Sam's mouth a few times. "Honey, you have no idea what you're asking for."

Sam's eyes slid closed as he caressed his tongue along Dean's thumb. "Yes, I do. I've _seen_ you."

"So stubborn." A small growl left Dean's throat as he gazed up at Sam. "Been checking out my dick, Sammy? Is that what you're saying?"

"Yeah.”

"Naughty, Sammy," Dean whispered, stroking his fingers over the pretty blush that had crept up on Sam’s cheeks. "What are we gonna do about that, huh?"

Sam bent down, moving to kiss Dean's mouth but froze just before they made contact. "Dad's back,” he said before moving quickly off of Dean and back to his space on the bed.

"Fuck," Dean said roughly and sent Sam a desperate look. "Go shower, Sammy."

Sam obeyed, rushing out of the room.

It was only a few moments after that John barged in. The door slammed behind him. Great. So John was in _a mood._

"Why are you in bed?"

It didn’t take a genius to know how bad it looked. The rumpled blankets, Dean’s sex hair, his lack of clothes - _fuck._

"Sorry, sir, I fucked up," Dean said, strained. Breathy. "Smells like breakfast. Thank you for, uh, getting it."

John placed a grocery bag on the table. He leveled Dean with a hefty glare. "Get up,” he ordered, dropping a six-pack of beer on the table, too.

Dean sat awkwardly on the edge of the bed. He wasn't exactly up, not the way John wanted him to be, but at least he wasn't lying down anymore. He gestured at his boxers. "Can't get dressed yet. Still need to shower. Let Sammy go first."

John started putting away things in the shitty little motel fridge. "You should be training with him.”

Dean winced and got off the bed, scrambling to help John put things away. "I'm sorry, sir. I... I woke up later than I'd meant to."

"Obviously,” John replied gruffly. "I expect more from you."

"Sorry." Dean's shoulders slumped and he gazed at the floor. John always seemed to say the thing that would make Dean feel like shit on the bottom of John's shoe. It was like a goddamn art. "I'll try harder in the future. I'm sorry I let you down."

"Sam's at the age where muscle memory is going to be picked up the easiest and you waste time lounging in bed."

Dean rubbed at his stinging eyes and backed away from his father. He couldn't be near John just then. "What else do you want me to say? I can't change what happened."

John stepped closer to Dean, crowding him. "I want you to tell me _how_ you will do better."

Dean gulped, his heart rabbiting in his throat. He gazed around the room, looking for a means of escape. His only real route was rolling onto the bed - but that would piss John off even more, Dean was sure of it. Dean took a deep, cleansing breath and gazed into John's eyes, trying to ignore how small he felt. "Set the alarm clock?"

“Good boy. What else?”

"I-" Dean's voice did that dumb puberty-crack thing. "I don't know, sir.”

“Plan _what_ you’ll train Sam ahead of time. That way, you’ll have an idea of how long it’ll take.”

Dean huffed, trying to swallow back his feelings. It was hard not to be offended when John treated him like an idiot. "With all due respect, sir, I _already_ plan out training for Sam. That's not an issue at all."

"It’s hardly a plan if it's not properly implemented."

"Not following through _once_ doesn't mean it's not properly implemented. I know how to train Sam," Dean insisted, crossing his arms defensively.

John's eyes narrowed. "Then prove it." He pointed at the table. "Go eat."

"Yes, sir." Dean brushed past John and made his way to the table. He felt exposed and vulnerable like this, almost naked, but he sure as hell wasn't going to put new clothes on when he felt so dirty.

John sat down. "What were you boys doing in bed so late anyway?"

"I already told you - we overslept," Dean said, his stomach twisting. He poked at his Egg Mcmuffin absently. In a very un-Deanlike move, he didn't take a bite. "What else could we have been doing?"

What else, indeed. _Fuck._

"Mmhmm," John hummed, unconvinced.

Sam exited the bathroom, rescuing Dean from the awkward conversation. “Hey.”

"Sam. Come get breakfast.”

Sam's eyes darted between John and Dean before sitting down next to Dean just _a little bit_ too close. Closer than he had in a while.

"Hey, little big man," Dean said fondly, tentatively placing a hand on Sam's arm. A droplet of water slid down Sammy’s throat, begging to be licked. His body was damp, still. Distractingly so. "Do I gotta teach you how to use a towel?"

Sam sent Dean a sly look. "No."

Dean inhaled sharply. It was impossible not to be affected. God, Sammy looked so fucking good he could scream.

"Oh," he said lamely then swallowed back a whine when his dick twitched.

"Good shower, Sam?" John asked, pushing Sam’s food closer to him.

"Yeah,” Sam said, taking a bite of his food.

Dean wondered if Sam had jacked off. If he had muffled his moans so well that Dean hadn't heard them or if Sam was aching and wanting and needing release -

He licked his suddenly dry lips then took a bite of his Mcmuffin, still laser-focused on Sam. "Is there any hot water left, Sammy?"

Sam’s lashes brushed against his cheeks. "Maybe.”

Dean sucked his lower lip in his mouth, considering what to do or say next. It was a difficult task, getting his brain to work at all right now. God, if Dad wasn't here...

Nevermind that.

"There better be," Dean said, light and teasing. "Or you'll be in big trouble."

John made a noise in his throat that had Dean wincing. It said _stop running your mouth and eat._

So Dean did.

* * *

It was a hard day of training, like always. It was a long day of laughing and giggling and touching each other more than necessary.

Dean couldn’t get enough of it.

"You two trained well today despite your late start.”

"Sam always trains well - when he's not giving me shit." Dean ruffled Sam's hair, not bothering to look at his father. He was still nursing wounds from earlier and it was making him want to hurt John back. That desire was dangerous. Dean had always been the obedient son. It was necessary to keep the peace. And then there was Sam. _Sammy_. Sam was full of fire and he didn't fear John's disapproval. The only reason Sam tried at all was for Dean, Dean knew it like he knew his own hand.

“Well, you boys have earned a treat.”

Dean let out a huff. If the treat involved getting anywhere near Dad, he wasn't sure he wanted it. "You want a treat, Sammy?" he asked his brother, soft enough that it was just for Sam, soft enough that John wouldn't hear.

“Do you?” Sam gazed at Dean, full of adoration.

"The treat I want... Dad can't give me. Only you can."

"Tonight, when he's asleep, we should sneak out into the car-"

"You boys gonna answer me or what?" John asked, irritated.

"Hmm? It would help to know what kind of treat you wanna give us."

"Beer for Sammy. Rum and coke for you. A treat is a treat, Dean, don't be so ungrateful."

"I'm going to ride your dick in the back seat of the Impala, Dean,” Sam whispered for Dean's ears alone. "I bet I can come on it without touching myself."

"Uh-huh. Yes, sir." Dean knew he should be more worried by John's words, he knew that John could explode any time - but it was hard to care when Sammy was talking so filthy. "Sammy," he whined softly. "I think we should start small, sweetheart."

Sam wet his lips and pointedly looked at Dean's clothed dick before moving to sit with his father. "Beer!”

John smiled and reached out, ruffling Sam's hair but he wasn't looking at Sam when he did it. His eyes were on Dean. "Yeah. Thought it was high time you try the stuff."

"Isn't Sammy a little young for beer?" Dean asked against his better judgment as he sat down next to Sam, a surge of protectiveness running through him.

"Didn't _you_ start drinking at his age?" John countered, sliding a can of beer to Sam for him to open.

Dean wanted to defend himself. He wanted to say it wasn’t true - because it wasn’t. He might have tried a _taste_ of the stuff at Sammy’s age but there had been no real drive to drink until he started kissing girls.

But details like that didn’t matter to John. He latched onto whatever piece of information suited him best, there was no real use correcting him.

"I _shouldn't_ have," Dean said, dragging Sam closer to him. "Don't be like me, kid. You're really fucking special."

“Yeah, Dean?” Sam looked up at Dean with big, trusting eyes.

“Then give him a coke too and let him choose for himself. What’s your problem, Dean?” John barked.

Dean ignored John and stroked Sam's chin gently. "So special, Sammy."

_If I get punished, it’ll be worth it._

“Dad,” Sam said as he placed his hand on top of Dean’s. “Dean’s protecting me - you know, the thing you’re _always_ telling him to do? He’s not doing anything wrong by speaking up… unless following _your_ orders is wrong now.”

Dean tensed, preparing for their dad to lose it. He’d shield Sam from John if he had to. He would, there was no other option _._

John punched the table instead of Dean or Sam, so that was a small victory. “I’m not one of your little friends, Sam. Watch how you speak to me.” The ‘or else’ wasn’t said so much as _felt._

“Understood,” Sam said even though he didn’t seem to understand at all. It wasn’t like Sam to give in, it wasn’t like Sam to back down and let John _win_. It was something Dean secretly respected even if it _did_ stress him out to no end.

And this time… this time Sammy just _let it go_.

The smart thing to do would be to give John the attention he seemed to want. The smart thing to do would be to extricate himself from Sam and treat him like _normal_.

But even with the intensity of John’s growing rage, Dean couldn’t keep his eyes or his hands away from Sam. Right now, they were a shelter for each other. There was a strength in the closeness that he couldn’t stand to lose.

"You boys best get these down before the damn carbonation goes flat and you waste the money I spent on this.”

"We will," Dean told his father but his eyes were still firmly on Sam. He flicked his little brother's nose in hopes of relieving some of the sexual tension. "Won't we, kid?"

Sam gave Dean a coy look from under his lashes before taking a sip of his coke.

Dean nudged Sam's arm and took a long drink of his drink. "Since when are you sweet little obedient Sammy?"

Sam huffed but a cute little blush was growing on his cheeks. "Since never but tonight's a special occasion."

"Special because of the booze?" Dean said, trying to keep his tone light and teasing. He leaned in so he could whisper into Sam's ear. "Be careful with that. I'm not playing with my baby brother if he gets drunk."

"Okay." Sam shivered and it was one of the most delicious things that Dean had ever seen. Sam took a sip of the beer and made a face.

Dean laughed and punched Sam's arm lightly. "Adorable."

"I am not!"

"Are too." Dean took another sip of his rum and coke. "The truth hurts."

"You’ll get used to the taste,” John added.

Sam was blushing bright red as he sent John a nod. "Makes sense," he said then drank almost half of his coke.

Dean snorted. "Clearly, you have a preference."

"Dean, stop teasing me," Sam whined and switched back to his beer.

By this point, Dean had finished his rum and coke and was feeling particularly stupid and flirty. "Says the biggest tease of them all."

"Want another one, Dean?" John asked.

"Mmm." Dean ran his hand through Sam's stupidly long hair. "Yes, Daddy."

Sam giggled. "Daddy? What are you, five?"

Dean groaned and hid his face in Sam's shoulder. "Shut up, Sam."

"Don't tease him, Sam. Dean can call me that if he wants."

"Teasing each other is what we do. It's not mean, it's a brother thing. Right, Dean?" Sam tugged Dean's short hair gently.

"Yeah."

"Daddy, daddy, daddy," Sam said, giggling again.

Dean groaned, his dick making a mess in his pants. "Fuck."

“Here you go,” John said, sliding another rum and coke over to Dean.

Dean took the drink and before he could even taste it Sam stood up. He swayed before moving over to John and began petting his hair.

"Are you feeling left out, Daddy?" Sam asked, slurring his words a little.

"Christ, Sammy, how drunk are you? Do I need to put you to bed?" Dean asked, although, truth be told, he was worried he didn't have the strength to lift Sam into his arms the way he wanted.

"Daddy's just fine,” John said and picked Sam up. He carried Sam to the bed that Sam and Dean shared and laid him down. "How you feeling Dean?"

Dean licked his lips, his eyes darting between John and Sam. "Tired," he said with difficulty. "I think... I think I should lay down with Sammy."

John moved to Dean and ran his rough, gun-calloused hands along Dean’s jawline. "Yeah? Think you can make it there on your own?"

"Could I lean on you while I walk?"

"Yeah." John hauled Dean up and started leading him to the bed. His hand curled around the small of Dean's back, resting on his hip.

When they reached the bed, Dean collapsed onto it, letting out a sigh of relief as he curled up next to Sam. "Thanks, dad."

John stroked Dean's hair. "What happened to Daddy?"

Dean clung tighter to Sam as he gazed up at John. "Nothing happened to it."

John hummed and gripped his hair. "Then say it."

"Fuck!" Dean yelped but he didn't dare try to push John's hand away. "Thanks, Daddy."

"There you go.”

Dean slipped away after that, so if his father said anything else, he didn’t hear it.

* * *

Dean’s head was heavy. Fuzzy. His eyes didn't want to open. He didn't even feel real. There were fingers in his mouth that he was gagging on, his father's familiar scent surrounding him - but that didn't make sense. He tried to say Sam's name but all that came out was noises distorted by the thick fingers filling him up.

John pulled his fingers free when Dean opened his eyes and bent down towards the floor, sifting through a bag of… something.

And then...

A gun.

There was a gun in John’s hand and that didn’t make sense either. Seriously, what the hell was going on?

"Dad?" he asked and tried to sit up but his body wouldn't let him. His world tilted and he whimpered softly.

"Open up,” John told Dean. Like he wanted him to take a thermometer in his mouth instead of a fucking gun. He pressed his fingers into Dean’s jaw, forcing his mouth open.

Dean choked and tried to push the gun away. All of it away. "No!"

"You don't get to say that," John growled. He shoved the gun into Dean's mouth, groaning at the sight. Dean turned his head to the side in an attempt to escape the violation.

Sam. His Sammy. Sam was right by Dean's side. Sammy was fast asleep and curled around him. Sam had no idea what was happening.

Assuming this was even real.

"There we go," John said, forcing eye contact, tilting Dean’s head so he couldn't see Sam. "Taking that like a champ."

Dean felt as weak as a newborn as he struggled to breathe through his nose. His efforts to get away so far were entirely fruitless. Maybe that meant this was a dream.

"So you're sweet on your brother, huh? Saw you two wrapped around each other this morning,” John said as he fucked Dean’s mouth with the gun.

Dean didn't know what to say to that. What could he say? Yes? It was true but that didn't mean he wanted to tell his father. Even now, even though everything was in slow motion, his whole being screamed ‘ _keep Sammy safe, make sure he's okay.'_

Yeah. Some big brother _he_ was touching and looking at Sam the way he had.

Maybe that's why he was having this nightmare. His brain was punishing him for being a piece of shit and liking Sam in the first place.

“You’re mine, Dean.”

Tears threatened to spill from Dean's eyes and he shook his head 'no' the smallest bit. Because he wasn't. Not ever. There was a place inside him that John could never touch, that didn't belong to him at all. It was all Sam's.

John backhanded Dean and he let out a muffled cry of pain as his teeth rattled against the cool metal. He glared, knowing full well that it was a bad idea. He was quickly proven right when John wrenched the gun out of Dean's mouth and tossed it back into the duffel. He grabbed Dean's face, holding Dean's cheeks in his hand, his grip tight and uncomfortable. "You listen to me you little shit. You. Belong. To. Me. And I won’t allow you to ruin what I’ve got planned for us.”

"You said it yourself, you saw me in bed with Sammy. Bet I looked real happy, didn't I?" Dean asked, far too defiant for his own good. “It’s because _I was_. And now I’m _not_.”

Maybe he was tired of his efforts not being appreciated. Maybe _rape_ was a step too far. Whatever the reason, Dean was _talking back_. Definitely more of a Sam response than a Dean response. He sure chose a hell of a time to abandon everything he was taught and stop being a good little soldier.

"You’ll learn. I’ll make sure of it.” John punched Dean, interrupting his thoughts. His knuckles connected with Dean's mouth, splitting his lip and causing blood to flow. John cradled Dean's face, using his thumb to smear the mess over Dean’s lips and across his cheek. “Won’t be confused for long, boy.”

Dean yelped before spitting his blood at John. "Did I look confused when I was wrapped around Sam? Did I look confused when I was touching him earlier?”

John wiped the blood from his face and pressed their mouths together. It was an angry, claiming kiss. Nothing like the soft tender kisses Sam had given Dean. "You had better start behaving Dean or I'll have to turn my attention to someone else.”

"Are you threatening me? Are you saying you'll hurt Sam?" Dean asked, his lips aching with each word, ruined from the violence. Anger was building inside of him. More anger than he ever remembered feeling. "'Cause we both know if you don't like how I'm behaving, Sammy will be an even bigger pain in the ass. I'm the one who listens and gets chewed out anyway. Sammy is the one who fights you at every turn."

"Sammy has more drugs in his system than you do, Dean. And I have no qualms about tying him down if need be."

That first part seemed to be true. Unfortunately. Through all of this, Sam had barely moved. Dean glanced over at him, taking in Sam's sweet face. Poor kid had no idea what was happening. He looked so damn soft and innocent. Goddamn angelic. Without a care in the world.

"So now you're a pedophile? That's cute," Dean said, glaring daggers into his father.

"Speak for yourself. I'd rather Sam _not_ be involved." John brushed his thumb over Dean's mouth. A tender juxtaposition to the violence he had just caused.

Dean whimpered, his lips quivering against John's thumb. "Just... let me go. You can stop, you can go to bed and we can forget about all of this. It'll be better tomorrow."

"It won't be better tomorrow,” John said, kissing Dean again. His tongue dipped inside and Dean tasted the coppery tang of blood. He was sure John did, too. "Not for me. Not until you realize you're mine."

"And if I don't?" Dean asked, trying to wriggle away but his limbs, his whole body, felt far too heavy. It was like he wasn't even attached to himself. And even if he could move there was nowhere to go. Not unless he was ready to fight.

"You will... With time." Another kiss. "Sam isn't for you. I am. You and I are meant to be together. I _love_ you, Dean.”

Sam made a soft, sweet little noise and Dean shakily rubbed his thigh, shushing him. He didn't return John's kiss but he didn't fight it either.

"Don't make me choose," Dean whispered, squeezing his eyes shut tight. "Don't do it. Please.”

"We will have to see." John retrieved a knife from his bag. He dragged the flat of it over Dean's mouth, his chin and down his throat. "It will depend on how well you can commit to me. To my right to you."

Dean's pulse pounded in his throat, his eyes burning. A soft, fearful whine escaped despite his best efforts to hide the terror. "What are you gonna do to me?"

John was riveted on the knife. _Both_ of them were as John ran it over Dean's nipple. It flushed against the scrape. "Told you already, Dean.”

"Are you gonna cut me?" Dean asked, his voice cracking.

John's eyes were dark with lust and need when they flicked up to Dean's face. "I might. Just a little."

"Daddy," Dean whined. He wasn't sure why he kept saying it. He wasn't sure what he hoped it would accomplish. He only knew the look in John's eyes was freaking him out.

"Fuck, Dean... Good boy,” John groaned. Down, down, down the knife went. John tapped Dean’s toned stomach with it. His hips.

"Shit," Dean hissed, his dick twitching. It hadn't quite gotten the memo that this wasn't consensual. "That feels weird."

John hummed and cut the letter ‘D’ into his right thigh. It was a shallow thing but enough to leave a scar. Dean swallowed thickly, staring as the knife drew blood. "What am I supposed to tell Sam if he sees?"

"Tell him who you belong to,” John replied. He dug his thumb into the cut and smudged the blood across Dean’s skin.

"That would be too embarrassing.”

Plus, Sammy wouldn't like that answer. Not one bit. Dean's not sure if Sam would get jealous or if he'd be disgusted or if there’d be some other unknown mix of emotions, but there was no way a conversation like that wouldn't end well.

"Too bad."

Dean fought the urge to try and get away. "You really don't care?"

"Why would I care about what Sam thinks, as long as he understands? You're mine. He needs to accept that."

"Please don't get mad at Sammy if he has a hard time. He's just a kid."

"If he's old enough for you to lust after, then he's old enough to learn." Another letter, this one an ‘A’.

"I'm just saying be patient," Dean said, his dick leaking and jumping. It stung. It hurt. But he kind of liked the pain, too.

John nuzzled at Dean's cock. "See that? Your mind just has to catch up to your body." Another letter. ‘D’.

"Please," Dean gasped, watching his father work. "What are you writing?"

"Guess."

"Daddy?"

"Close,” John replied. When 'Daddy’s' was spelled out, he moved to Dean’s other thigh. 'W'.

"Whore. But I'm not a whore."

"You're _my_ whore." When the word was etched into Dean’s skin, John dropped the knife on the bed and lapped up the blood that beaded from the cuts.

"You don't pay me for sex, how am I a whore," Dean whined, squirming against John's tongue. "I'm not a fucking prostitute."

"No, but I'm going to fuck you like one. It's called kink, Dean,” John said, pressing two fingers into Dean’s hole.

"Fuck," Dean yelped, squeezing on John's fingers. The penetration didn't hurt and that told him that John had fucked him open with _something_ while Dean had been asleep. It was such a creepy thought. "This is so fucked up."

"You squeeze fingers like you're greedy for them. Christ, I can't wait to feel you on my cock."

Dean wanted to fight but John's threats toward Sam were still fresh in his mind, so he spread out as wide as he could and clenched on his father's fingers even harder. "Is it gonna hurt?"

"You haven't done this before?"

Dean turned his face away from his father, glancing at Sam. Sam's pink little mouth was parted, looking kissable and delicious. "I've only been with girls and none of them were interested in… this."

"Fitting that I get your virginity here,” John said as he added another finger.

Dean's face heated in embarrassment, his guts twisting as he kept looking over at Sam. Maybe it was wrong, but it felt more tolerable if he focused on his brother. "Why's that?"

"I made you. Fitting that I’m the one who gets to pop _this_ particular cherry." John reached for the lube on the nightstand and slicked up his cock before forcing himself inside Dean.

Dean winced and squirmed. "Could you fuck me on my hands and knees instead?"

"So you can stare at Sam and pretend it's not me? I don't think so."

Sam was drifting closer to them, his hands searching for his brother. Even in sleep, Sam looked for him. Even in sleep, he wanted Dean nearby. He slept the best when they were flush together.

"If you didn't want me looking at Sam, why did you decide to do this next to him?" Dean asked, keeping his voice as light and non-confrontational as he could as he touched Sam's hand.

John waited until he was fully sheathed inside Dean before reaching over to push Sam away. "Because you are _mine_ and his presence doesn't change that.”

Dean and his father's combined weight made a large dip in the bed, which in turn made it impossible for Sam to stay away. Sam rolled right back to where he'd been and Dean let out a soft sigh of relief. "Yeah, okay."

John took Dean's jaw in his fingers and turned his head towards him for a hard kiss as he rolled his hips with a moan.

Dean didn't kiss John back but he didn't bite him or struggle either. He breathed in and out, in and out. Tried to stay calm. He needed to stay calm. For Sam. As if sensing his distress, Sam's soft noises started up again and he nuzzled against Dean's arm.

"You'd better start kissing me back, Dean,” John nearly growled. He rocked his hips, thrusting deep inside Dean as he kissed him.

"Fuck," Dean whined against John's mouth, his whole body shivering. He couldn’t quite make his lips do what John wanted. He wanted to snap at John and hurt him but he was starting to see none of it was going to get him anywhere. "I'm doing the best I can.”

John bit Dean's bottom lip with a possessive growl. "Try harder, boy."

"What if I can't? What if this is all I can do?"

“You _will_ cooperate with me or Sam will be the one getting fucked. Pony up.”

Dean's eyes burned with tears and he sniffled. He wasn't good enough, never was. No matter how hard he tried, his father was always disappointed in him and now was no exception. "What do you want me to do, exactly? What more do you want that I'm not giving?"

John wiped Dean's tears with his thumb. "God, you are beautiful," he whispered. "I need you to participate. Don't just lay there. Let me _hear_ you. Kiss me back. _Touch_ me,” he said while continuing to move inside Dean.

Dean's lower lip wobbled and he kissed the edge of John's mouth. "S'hard to do anything right now. My body feels funny," he said, letting out a small, broken moan when John hit that special, sensitive spot inside him.

"There we go, baby boy." John ran his fingers through Dean's hair and kept hitting that same spot. "You sound so good."

"Daddy," Dean keened and writhed as his cock twitched in interest. "I do?"

"Yeah, baby. Just _listen_ to you."

"It's embarrassing. I don't like making noise."

John stroked his fingers up Dean's cock. "No one can hear you but me so you better stop being embarrassed."

Fuck, he hoped that was true, he hoped Sammy didn't wake up. So far so good but he was making an awful lot of noise.

"Oh fuck, daddy," Dean said, this time letting out a long whine. "You sure you don't want me on my knees? See my ass in the air?"

"Next time. Right now I just want to see your pretty face as you take my cock." John's hands shifted to Dean's hips and he gripped him hard, fucking him at a more insistent pace.

"Why's that, daddy?" Dean asked, wrapping his arms around John's shoulders.

"I want to see you come for me."

Dean keened, wiggling helplessly on John's cock. "M'really close."

John pressed his thumb into Dean's mouth. "Come for me, baby."

Dean whined around John's thumb and came hot and heavy between them.

"Oh fuck." John sped up his thrusts even more. At the last moment, he pulled out, coming across Dean's chest. He pressed his fingers into the come and started rubbing it into Dean's skin.

"What are you doing?"

"Marking you."

"Okay," Dean said even though he thought it was weird as fuck. Beyond weird, really. More like _fucked up._

"You did good. I can tell you tried at the end there. Probably because you enjoyed it."

The last thing Dean saw before he was swallowed up by darkness was his father grinning down at him.

* * *

The next time he woke up, he was tangled up in Sam. It felt almost normal. Like he was okay and nothing bad had happened. It was all just a dream and now Dean was safe and sound. Sammy, too. But Dean's ass hurt something fierce. The words 'daddy's whore' were plain as day on his flesh, little heartbeats that ached almost as much as his ass.

"There's my boy,” John said, making himself at home between Dean’s legs again. He ran his big hands along Dean’s hips and stomach. His touches were somehow gentle and cruel at the same time.

“Is Sammy okay?” Dean flinched and carded his fingers through Sam's hair. And, no surprise at this point, really, Sam didn’t open his eyes.

"Yeah. I made sure he drank water. Poured it into his sweet little mouth. He's down for the count.”

_Out, Sam’s out._

Snippets of memories floated into Dean’s head. John with a knife. John with a gun. John inside him. And through it all, Dean had been too weak to fight back properly. Through it all, Sam had slept on.

Because they’d been drugged.

And Sam had been drugged _again._

"You worried he'd get mad if he wakes up at the wrong time?”

"This is _our_ time, Dean. He will find out soon enough. And if he gets mad, well, that's something he will have to work through." John hadn't stopped caressing Dean’s body.

Dean swallowed thickly and fought against the part of him that screamed to push John away. To protect himself and Sam. One step at a time. Right now, he just needed to get them through this awful night. "So... you're not done, huh? Is that what you're trying to say?"

"That's right, baby boy. Get on your hands and knees,” John said.

Dean cringed. He couldn't seem to make himself move. Not yet. "Did you do anything else to Sam besides... You know?”

He needed to know how far it went. He needed to know if he had to kill his father.

"Checked his vitals." John shrugged. "So jealous. Don't worry, Dean, I only have eyes for you.”

"I'm not jealous,” Dean said, trying to keep the growl out of his voice.

Possessive, though. Probably that. The thought of John touching Sammy the way Dean wanted to touch him - it was too much to bear. Fuck that.

"Sure, Dean." John patted Dean's hip. "Roll over, hands and knees. I won't ask again."

Dean swallowed back his sassy retorts, all the ones he yearned to say, and rolled over onto his belly. Immediately, he reached for Sam, dragging his fingers over his slim frame. "Sammy," he whispered. Sam's mouth parted and he could almost pretend that Sam was saying Dean's name.

_I wanna kiss you so bad._

He didn't dare.

John smoothed his calloused fingers down Dean's back before squirting some lube directly onto his hole. "Mmm, you got all tight again."

"Fuck.” Dean stroked his hand along Sam's face, biting his lip. "I'll be fine."

"You will be after some prep,” John said and pushed two fingers into him.

"You don't want it just like this?"

"I'm going to take you tight but I don't wanna tear you,” John replied gruffly. "You'll thank me later."

"If you say so." Dean's hand traveled to Sam's throat and his fingers fluttered nervously on it.

Soon John had four fingers crammed into Dean's hole. "You look so good like this. You were made for this, Dean."

Dean buried his face in Sam's shoulder as he tried to swallow back the moans that wanted to crawl out. “It's just an ass, not the Holy Grail.”

"It's _your_ ass. And I've waited a _long_ time for it.” John spread Dean's cheeks and entered Dean in one long glide.

"You say that as if you haven't already had it," Dean gasped, dragging his lips against Sam's shoulder. "And you definitely have."

"It's not like I can't enjoy it more than once.” If John’s tone didn’t tell Dean that his father wasn’t pleased with his response, his vicious thrust made it crystal clear.

"Ow!" Dean yelped in pain, clutching onto Sam tight. "Hurts."

John growled and thrust towards Dean's prostate, more gentle this time. His grip on Dean’s hips, however, was _not._ John’s fingers practically gouged into Dean’s skin, so forceful Dean struggled to breathe. Dean sniffled and rocked into the movement. The faster John came, the faster this would be over.

"Where are all those pretty sounds from before?" John asked, reaching under Dean to stroke his cock.

"I don't know." Dean was drifting away, not even in his body anymore. "Just... Use me. Do what you want and don't worry about it."

"Come on. Let me hear you."

Dean didn't make noise. He barely felt anything anymore, it was a straight-up impossibility. He did, however, continue to meet John's thrusts. The heavy sound of John’s balls and hips slapping Dean's skin filled the room along with moans and panting. It seemed to take forever but he finally came with a groan while snug deep inside.

Dean flinched. His dick was heavy between his legs but he dutifully ignored it. "Can I shower?"

"No." John moved out from between Dean's legs and gripped Dean's hips, flipping him onto his back. "Hmm, just as I thought." He ran his fingers up Dean's cock. "You liked it."

There was a ‘no’ on his tongue and he was sure it would enrage John, so he had to keep it to himself. If he only took it out on Dean, he could live with that, but John was insisting that Sam would be next if he didn't behave and that was a risk Dean couldn't take.

"So what now?" Dean asked, ignoring John's comment.

John smirked and dragged his tongue over the head of Dean's cock.

"No," Dean whined, immediately starting to wiggle and squirm. "Please no."

John licked a swipe up from Dean's balls to the tip of this cock. "I bet Sammy would _love_ this. He'd be so sweet and responsive. He’s young. Impressionable, moldable." John grinned then swallowed Dean down to the root.

"Sam wants _me,_ " Dean gasped, his cock twitching in John's mouth.

John intervaled between sucking hard and licking the length of Dean’s cock.

Dean kept trying to float away again, to ignore the sensations - but he couldn't. John's mouth kept him anchored in his body. Desperate. "Fuck.”

John pulled off of Dean's cock a moment. "Yes. You sound so sweet now."

Dean shivered and glanced down, watching pre-come blurt from his cock. John licked it up and stared Dean in the eye before swallowing him down again. Dean came in John's mouth with a broken groan and John drank down what Dean gave him and kept licking, probably just to hear Dean whine some more.

"Please," Dean gasped and pressed on John's face, trying to get him off his cock. "It's - it's a lot."

John pulled off of Dean, crawled up his body, and gave him an all-consuming kiss.

* * *

"Can I shower?" Dean asked a couple of hours later and even that simple question felt like a risk. John was unpredictable. Lashing out if Dean so much as gazed at him wrong.

John stroked his hand down Dean's chest and through the mess of come. "Yeah, baby boy. Let's get you clean."

Dean wanted to kiss Sammy. He wanted to touch him and hold him and just _be_ with him for a while.

Later.

He got off the bed and when John followed him into the bathroom, Dean didn’t complain like he wanted to. John turned on the shower before he reached for Dean and pulled him close. "Look at that smile of yours."

Dean squeaked, averting his eyes. John was so intense to look at just then. Like staring into the sun. Dean couldn't help but feel if he got too close he'd be burned to nothing.

"In you go."

"You don't wanna go in first?"

John rose a brow and got into the shower before reaching out a hand to Dean. "You were so set on showerin’ earlier."

Dean hesitated mere seconds before grabbing John's hand and following him into the shower. "Yeah. That hasn't changed."

John pulled Dean in front of him and reached for the soap. He kissed Dean's neck as his free hand slid down Dean's chest. His stomach. He crowded in close until Dean's body was flush with his. "Here we go."

"The whole point of you getting in first was so that you'd be in front of me," Dean pointed out softly. "Don't want me near your ass or something?" His own ass was clenched tight with worry.

John chuckled as he reached around Dean, soaping up both hands. He slid them down his front to his dick. "Yeah but then I couldn't clean you like this."

Dean hissed. His dick was so damn sensitive at this point. Too sensitive. "You're just cleaning me, right? I don't think I can survive another round.”

"You're a teenager." He reached between Dean's legs to clean his balls. "But no. Just cleaning, Dean."

"Thank you. I appreciate that, dad."

"Daddy,” John corrected him, kissing his shoulder as he brought his hands around to clean Dean's ass.

"Daddy," Dean repeated, kicking himself for ever letting that word leave his mouth in the first place. Maybe if he hadn't this night would've gone differently. He hissed again, jerking away from John's fingers. "My ass hurts."

"I’ll be gentle.” And, as he was cleaning carefully, "Should get you a plug."

Every time Dean thought he couldn't possibly get more embarrassed or surprised, John hit him with another bombshell. "Why?" he blurted. "What's so good about a plug?"

John slid two fingers into Dean's hole. "It will help train you. Keep you nice and open for me. Think you’d like it.”

"Oh." Dean jerked at the intrusion, tears dripping from his eyes as he sniffled in pain. "Please. I meant what I said. It hurts."

John removed his fingers and dropped a few kisses on Dean’s neck. "Sorry, baby."

"Thanks." Dean let out a sigh of relief. This was probably the first time since this nightmare started that John had listened to a single one of Dean's pleas and it disgusted Dean that he felt grateful. "Thanks, daddy. When are you gonna get the plug?"

"Tomorrow. You need some rest first but I’m hopin’ to introduce it to you tomorrow, too."

"Oh." Dean had no idea how John planned on doing that without Sam being completely aware of what was happening and he couldn't quite make himself ask.

John stood up and reached past Dean for the shampoo. "I expect you to keep this a secret from Sam. I want to see how he reacts to it on _my_ terms. You will behave like you usually do until we ease him into what we are now."

A part of Dean wanted to spill his guts to Sam as soon as they were alone. Another part, the big brother part, wanted to protect Sam - even from this.

For now, he needed to stay compliant. But maybe with a bit of planning and, okay, some begging, he could talk Sammy into running away with him. Maybe he could give Sam an apple pie life, a life without hunting and death and their father’s drunken rages.

Eventually.

One step at a time.

"Yes, sir," he whispered.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos always welcome. 
> 
> Also. 
> 
> There might be a "sequel" in the works with explicit Sam/John. That part is consensual (if you can even call it that) but poor, poor Dean. I can't say the same for him. I wouldn't call it "canon" as far as this story goes and more of a "what if." A fanfic of my fanfic, if you will. I don't know if I'll post it, though. Thoughts?


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